Russian Roulette
by xthesebonesx
Summary: Based off of 4x04;Damon, Elena, and Bonnie visit Whitmore College, with the intentions of teaching Elena how to properly feed. However, when Damon and Bonnie share an unsuspecting moment, the witch is left wondering just what she believes in. B/D/E *Unfinished*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I really don't know where I'm going with this, honestly. LOL. Basically I have been DYING to do a 4x04 scene rewrite for Bonnie and Damon since watching the episode because (as usual) the writers are failing me when it comes to creating a proper Bamon dynamic. So, I decided to do this; which is basically playing off the canon/slightly different than what happened at the Murder House frat party because my shipper feels are heightened, and I do whatever the fuck I want, haha. Anyway. This is MY take on what I believe should have happened during "The Five." Enjoy!**

"Witch is gone—time to teach you how to feed; the _right _way."

Elena watched Bonnie walking up the staircase towards Professor Shane, before turning to face Damon—who was donned in a black top hat, with eager blue eyes—and shaking her head in response to his words.

"Not so fast," she said, as she held up an index finger in protest. "I… kind of actually want to _pretend _I didn't just come here to be a murderous vampire, and feed on some unsuspecting stranger, with no thought about it at all. You _do _remember what happened in the quad, don't you?"

Damon licked his teeth as he groaned in annoyance, remembering _clearly _what happened earlier that day; he had instructed Elena to choose her meal, as sat in on a lecture during Professor McCreepy's lecture that she would later corner, and enjoy, like a lobster dinner.

Elena, however, let that stupid _compassion _of hers get into her head the minute she saw a picture of said meal's kid _sister, _and she called off the entire thing like a dive canceling her final show, because the rider said Coke and not _Pepsi._

However, he was lucky enough to talk her back into doing what Bonnie so _graciously _allowed them to tag along to do, and he was hell bent on teaching her, whether she liked it or not. Elena was merely the _shell _of a vampire, in his eyes, and it was about time she finally indulged in what she actually signed up for.

"Yeah, I _completely _remember you chickening out," he shot back, and Elena scoffed as she shrugged her shoulders, and took a sip of the drink one of the party-throwers handed her at the door.

"Can you blame me, Damon? I—I'm just not used to this, okay? And if I could feed from a blood bag, or deer, or _anything _else, I would… Stefan said—"

"Stefan's got it all wrong," Damon cut in, and she sighed. "You're a _vampire, _Elena. You need humanblood. You're not gonna survive without it. Now, if you want to be successful at this, you _have _to listen to me," he drawled.

Elena looked down at the ground, and twisted her foot against the floor. He didn't like that he had to be so blunt with her, but as far as he knew, this was the _only _way. They definitely didn't want Elena turning into The Ripper 2.0, so it was better if she learned how to feed, and fast. The more she did it, the more comfortable she would become, and the bigger the crisis they would avoid.

Damon cleared his throat, and stepped in a bit closer, and the brunette looked up at him with gentle doe eyes that properly stabbed at his heart the moment he gazed into them.

_She really needed to stop doing that._

"What we're gonna do is called the 'snatch-and-erase-'method," he began in a lowered voice, and Elena stood up straighter. "You see that guy, right over there, in the douche button-down?" he asked, and Elena nodded affirmatively as her eyes set gaze on him. "_Typical frat boy scum._"

"What? How can you tell?" Elena asked, as she folded her arms, and continued watching.

Damon didn't offer a response, for, he didn't have to, as Elena watched her presumptive prey slip a pill into the red Solo cup of the unsuspecting and completely unaware girl that he was talking to, the minute she turned her head.

Elena's brow rose, as her stomach turned.

"_That _guy," Damon whispered, and Elena nodded as she took in a deep breath, and let it out a bit more confidently. "Why don't you… 'accidentally' spill your drink on him? It'll give him a reason to desperately want to get you another and—"

"Get him alone," Elena said firmly, before looking into Damon's eyes. "I want to get him _alone._"

Damon smiled—impressed by her sudden prowess—and gestured her to lead the way.

"Go get him, tiger. I'll be there shortly."

Elena immediately walked off, and Damon watched as she stalked up to the frat boy with a slight off-balance in her step, as she played drunk. In no time flat, she spilled not only her drink, but the drugged one on him as well, and Damon smirked as he listened to Elena offering a profuse apology for her behavior.

_This girl was a good actor already._

Seconds later, Elena was expertly clinging onto the stranger's arm, and making her way out of the open, as they disappeared quickly from Damon's sight.

He glanced down at his watch and took a swig of his drink as he tapped his foot.

He figured he'd at least give her a minute before he barged in and regulated just how much fun she was having. The only way Elena would learn was with hands-on training, and he was more than willing to let her tap into her blatant vampiristic desires around him. He considered himself an expert, when it came to being a predator, and Elena could very easily be the same.

After all; _Vampire Barbie _had figured it out—Elena would, too.

Damon glanced around at the party dwellers—internally taking notes on who looked tasty, drunk, willing, and desperate—before his eyes traveled up the familiar staircase and landed on Bonnie and that Shane guy.

He rolled his eyes as he watched the smooth-talking-couldn't-be-older-than-thirty-or-something-year-old animatedly talking to Bonnie, as the girl smiled widely, and nodded in agreement with everything he said.

First off, why was this guy at a frat party, anyway? Damon didn't have his trusty "Whitmore College" handbook on him, but wasn't it frowned upon to be fraternizing so _freely _with your students?

Secondly—what the hell could he be talking about that had the witch so enamored by his every word? Something about the way he was standing so _comfortably _with this young girl he barely knew struck a chord with Damon, and he had no idea why.

He'd overheard Elena and Bonnie's exchange about him being hot, but that wasn't nearly as much of a good reason for Bonnie to be hanging onto his voice, like Damon was witnessing. Bonnie was lonely, and/or drunk—_not _desperate, and she never had been, as far as Damon could tell.

She was picky, a little self-righteous, and supremely finicky, but she wasn't the one to fall for the charmers, or even drop her held low enough to give them a second look. So, what the hell was all of her fawning over _this _guy?

It was, of course, his duty to find out.

Damon trotted up the staircase and walked in on the conversation, just as Bonnie was letting out a small laugh, and the Professor was chuckling softly.

_And this guy laughed at his own jokes? Seriously?_

"Let me guess—you were 'Talking about Witches,' for 300?" Damon asked, and Bonnie subsided her laughter long enough to give Damon her best "shut the hell up" glare, before smiling sweetly at Shane, and shaking her head.

"Shane, this is, uh, my… friend, Damon. Damon, Shane," Bonnie introduced quickly, and the professor extended his hand courteously.

Damon only offered him a curt smile in return, whilst completely brushing him off.

"Pleasure," he said lamely, before turning to face Bonnie as she scoffed at his rudeness. "We've gotta go," he said, as he grabbed her arm, and Bonnie pulled it out of his grasp quickly, with a sneer.

"Go _where? _We just got here," she said, and Damon rolled his eyes.

"I'm aware, Judgy. We're not _leaving, _we've just… gotta be elsewhere," he said in a quieted tone, as her green eyes followed his. "Elena, remember?"

Bonnie's mouth opened a bit as she began to get what he was saying. Shane cleared his throat and stepped in, as they both turned to face him again.

"Is there a problem, Bonnie?" he asked, and she quickly shook her head with a gentle smile after she tore her eyes away from Damon's.

"No, no—everything is fine," she reassured. "It's just my friend Elena. She went to go… find something… to eat," she eased.

"Yeah, and we better go find her, before that appetite of hers gets way too out of control," Damon warned, and Bonnie nodded.

"I see," Shane said, in a bit of a disappointed tone, as his eyes filtered throughout Bonnie's once more. "My, uhm… offer, from before, still stands. You know, if you're still interested in my help," he added, and Bonnie nodded as she felt Damon pulling her slightly by the wrist towards the steps, and she glanced back up at Shane quickly.

"Yeah, I'll think about it. Thanks!" she called before he was completely out of sight, and she was back downstairs, and in the midst of the crowd.

As soon as they made their way down there, Bonnie ripped her arm out of Damon's grip, and growled as she walked behind him.

"You're really annoying—you know that, right?" she asked, and Damon shrugged.

"You'll get over it," he reassured, and Bonnie hissed at that, as they made their way into the empty kitchen.

Bonnie breathed deeply as she forgot all about her frustrations with Damon, and her eyes settled on Elena, who was actively feeding on the neck of some guy, before Damon's voice commanded her to stop.

She crossed her arms over her chest uncomfortably, as she watched Elena repeating Damon's every word, as she compelled the gentlemen, and he walked away dazedly, leaving the three to stand there, alone.

"You did well," Damon said to Elena, and she smiled at him, as he used him thumb to wipe a drop of blood off of the corner of her mouth.

Bonnie watched as he licked his thumb clean, before feeling Elena's eyes on hers.

The two didn't say a word, as Elena shyly let out a breath, and waited for her best friend to react to this. She knew that Bonnie wasn't the biggest fan of vampires, considering all that she had been through because of them, but she was trying her hardest to be accepting and open-minded. After all, with a vampire for a mother and Caroline in her life as well, she would have to deal with them sooner or later. It was less than ideal that Elena had now joined the masses of the undead, but so far, she was coping accordingly with it.

She wasn't exactly proud of the way she'd handled things with Caroline, to be honest, so this time, she was trying to be different.

Elena's eyes gleamed, as she awaited Bonnie's words, until, instead, she began to speak her own.

"Bonnie—"

"You're… learning," Bonnie interrupted, and Elena nodded. "I… Wow."

"It's… what I have to do," Elena said, and Bonnie remained still. "And… I know this isn't really your ideal way of visiting college or anything, but… I wanted to thank you… for letting Damon and I come along. I really needed this."

Bonnie didn't say a word as she watched the strange sense of hope in Elena's eyes, and she couldn't help but sigh with resignation.

Was this all that Elena really needed?

Since turning into a vampire, the girl had been unhappy and damn near mourning herself, as she desperately tried to act as if everything was okay and nothing had to change.

Bonnie knew better.

She knew that Elena would have to adapt in a big way, and one of those "big" ways was going to be this; learning the self-control that needed to have, in order to not hurt anyone, while keeping herself healthy and satisfied. She'd heard what'd happened with Matt, and while she much preferred that Elena didn't have to feed on a live human _at all, _she knew that wasn't an option for whatever reason and they needed to explore every other way they could to help her.

This time? Damon's way. Bonnie could at least agree enough that his plan was as promising as it could be, and it had seemingly worked, as Elena easily controlled her bloodlust just moments ago, while following his every instruction.

Maybe there was hope for this, after all.

"I know," Bonnie finally responded, and Elena smiled gently as she reached forward; hugging the girl tightly, as Bonnie hesitantly, but finally, returned the embrace.

Damon snorted.

"_Okay, if you gals are done hugging like you're on Oprah, I'd like to drink. And dance. And drink some more."_

Elena and Bonne both flashed him dirty stares when they separated, before Elena grabbed Bonnie's hand and gazed at her promisingly, while picking up the bottle of Malibu that sat on the counter.

"Are you ready to party, Miss Bennett?" she asked with a grin, and Bonnie couldn't help but smile at the silly look on Elena's face that so reminded her of the girl she was _before _they had even known what vampires _were._

It warmed Bonnie to her come knowing that—somewhere, deep down—Elena was still the same Elena, and just because she had turned didn't mean that they had to. It gave her hope that—maybe, for once—vampires didn't have to hurt her, but could _help her _remember what life was like before it got so complicated.

The glimmer in Elena's eyes was working to restore her faith, and she was happy about that. Very, very happy.

"I think you know the answer to that," Bonnie smirked, and Elena bit her lip happily as she grabbed the girl by the hand and dragged her out of the kitchen, with Damon close behind.

_It was definitely time to party._

XXXXX

Bonnie laughed joyously as she took a swig from the bottle of alcohol, and spun around happily and in sync with the music blaring from the stereo system.

She had thought that she had partied before, but she realized what she had done was _nothing _compared to this.

The room was dark; illuminated only by glow sticks and strobe lights, but she decided it didn't need anything else, as she, Elena, and Damon moved with the music, taking turns drinking from the bottle.

She was drunk, and having a good time—she was acting like a _teenager _for once, and she was ecstatic about that.

If she had to be the resident witch who had lost her powers because of one too many rebellious acts against the balance of nature, then so be it. She was happier this way, anyway.

Elena brushed Bonnie's dark brown hair out of her face before pulling her in by the cheeks and speaking loudly into her ear.

"How are we on alcohol?" she yelled over the loud dance music that radiated throughout the dance floor, and Bonnie shook the bottle accordingly, and pouted.

"Terrible—we're almost out," she answered, and Elena took the bottle for reassurance and nodded.

"I'll get us a refill! Be right back!" she yelled.

Bonnie nodded as she moved now, much softer with the music, and Damon slid before her almost immediately.

"Where's she going?"

"Drinks!" Bonnie said, and he nodded at that, as he continued to move.

Bonnie sighed as she folded her arms across her chest and looked around. She decided she might as well wait for Elena to come back before she resumed her dancing, anyway.

"Why'd you stop?" Damon asked, as he still moved with the beat, and Bonnie scoffed as her eyes met his.

"Because I'm not dancing with you!" she said, and his brows furrowed at that.

"Why not? I've got some pretty smooth moves, you know that," he said, and Bonnie shook her head in annoyance as she remembered that _one _decade dance where she actually accepted Damon's invitation on the dance floor.

It was strictly to talk business, but she recalled it quite clearly as he spun her around and they swayed to the beat, as he helped her figure out a way to "beat the odds."

She never thanked him for that.

_She never would, either._

As far as she was concerned, he didn't deserve it, at this point. From that day on, Damon had been nothing but a raging dick towards her, for little to no reason at all. Just when she had started to believe that maybe he was getting just a little bit better, he proved her wrong by being the same old' jerky, snappy, asshole that he had been since she'd met him.

And sure, he had his bright spots, but there weren't many, and she refused to be one of those people who harped on it. She could care less what the hell Damon Salvatore wanted to do with his life. Just so long as all of the people she cared about were safe and he was keeping himself in check, then so be it.

She'd tolerate him, for Elena's sake, while still giving him the blatant and honest truth, just because she could. If anyone could keep or put Damon in his place, it was her. Because while Elena was either too hard or too soft, she was just _honest, _and she knew that he—begrudgingly—respected that.

_Just like he begrudgingly respected _her.

"Maybe I should go help her with those drinks," Bonnie said suddenly, as she realized she was now standing awkwardly in the middle of the dance floor, as everyone else was moving around her, and she had become caught up in her thoughts. This was what happened when she let herself think, and she hated it.

Why couldn't she just have fun?

Bonnie made a move to walk away, and she felt someone grab her hand before she could leave, easily stopping her in her plight to walk away. It could only be one person, she realized.

"Hey, Bonnie, stop—I want to talk to you," Damon said, much to her surprise, and Bonnie's brow rose as she spun around to face him.

He wanted to talk? And did he just actually call her by her real name, and not one of his stupid nicknames he'd insisted on using on a regular basis?

"What do you wanna talk about?" she asked a bit brashly, and Damon stuffed his hands into the pockets of his costume, and shrugged a bit ambiguously. She rolled her eyes. "Goodbye, Damon—"

"I want to apologize," he spat, and her look turned to one of confusion. "Against my lack of better judgment, I want to apologize, to you."

Bonnie stood there silently, as she was confused the loudness of the music, combined with her drunkenness was making her see and hear things. There was no way she was standing before an even remotely remorseful Damon Salvatore.

_And there was no way he was actually apologizing to her because he _meant _it._

"Damon, stop," she said quickly, as she shut her eyes to regain focus, and waved her hand dismissively. "Don't apologize to me on account of Elena—"

"This isn't about Elena," he said firmly, and her eyes shot open, again, as his translucent blue ones seemed to glow in the dark. "This is about me and _you._ I'm… apologizing to you, because I want to."

Bonnie licked her tongue across her teeth, and stood there—still terribly defensively, but vocally silenced—as Damon stared at her with as much genuine promise as she had seen in his eyes the night that she battled Klaus to her temporary death.

She had trusted him, that night, and somehow, the look on her face made her want to trust him, right now.

But why? Why should she believe a word that came out of this narcissistic sociopath's mouth, when she knew that he was very well capable of saying _anything _without really meaning it? It was who he was, after all. She had learned very quickly to take Damon at face value by his actions, and not so much his words. Sure, he was capable of being honest, sometimes, but the way he behaved was what was really telltale for her.

But right now, his behavior was questionable.

Bonnie stiffened, as she realized he was still looking at her, just as uncomfortably as she was looking at him, and she cleared her throat.

"Why now?" she asked simply, and he shifted his feet. "Why apologize now?"

"Because you can't witchy-migraine me," he said honestly and she scoffed. "And because… it's long overdue. My… regret about what happened to Abby is really long overdue."

Bonnie didn't respond as Damon moved in a step closer, and shook his head.

"You… know I don't do this, Witch. But I am… and it's only because I've never stopped thinking about it, contrary to what you may believe about me… And because I know that I may not be as bad as you think I am."

Bonnie snorted at that, though her bones were trembling.

"What about that stunt you just pulled with Professor Shane? You really think that was anything more than just you being an asshole?" she asked, and Damon laughed callously.

"Oh, c'mon! I was saving you—"

"You were being an ass—"

"Apples, oranges," Damon grinned, and Bonnie shook her head. "So, c'mon—are you gonna accept my apology or not?" he pushed, and Bonnie sighed—feeling slightly at ease during this conversation, once she realized she and Damon's relationship—or lack thereof—was now dependent upon _her. _

She now had enough rope, again, to decide what she wanted to do with it, and she couldn't say that she hated having the verbal upper hand.

"I'll think about it," Bonnie said and Damon studied her intently before nodding.

"Fine. You're call. Just… don't go blabbing about my repentance to everybody else—especially Elena—because I don't plan on confessing on my sins, just yet. This just… needed to be said because… what you told me made sense. I… did have a choice," Damon forced out, and Bonnie bit her lip. "I just made a pretty lousy one."

Bonnie silently agreed with that, but she didn't say anything else on the matter. It was already remarkable enough that Damon was actually feeling _regret _for one of his stupid actions and it wouldn't kill him to wallow in this, for a little bit.

She wasn't in any rush to make him feel comfortable with himself and if this was the Damon that she _thought _that she knew, he'd forget all about his words tomorrow. It would be just another moment between them that meant nothing, and solved nothing.

And Bonnie was absolutely okay with that.

"I think we should dance now," Damon suddenly said, but Bonnie was already too busy glancing around the room.

"I'm not dancing with you," she repeated, and Damon pouted. "And that does _not _work on me," she warned with her index to the air.

"Okay. But what about this?" he asked, as he pulled her in by the hand, and Bonnie groaned, though she still remained stoic. "What if I just dance? Do you dance back?"

"Da—Damon, jeez, it doesn't work that way," she said, as he twirled her around and captured her at the waist. "What are you—"

"If you won't dance with me, I'll dance with you. And with you not having any powers, and me having that vampire lightning speed of mine, I just don't see me leaving you alone until we do this properly."

Bonnie's jaw dropped but Damon's remained serious, all throughout.

"You're persistent," she said, as a new song that she vaguely knew the words to started, and Damon beamed in return, as she began to move with it. "And annoying. _So _annoying."

"I've heard worse," he winked, and she simply just shook her head in exasperation at that.

Was there even a point in telling him how royally screwed up he was? He knew it; he _embraced it. _

Maybe it was time that they all embraced what fuck-ups they really were.

Bonnie reluctantly placed her hands at Damon's shoulders as the tempo of the song increased, and she only looked in his eyes when she felt his own land at her waist; gripping her tightly.

She decided to just go with it, as the atmosphere of the intoxicating party began to fill her, again, and before she knew it, she was full out dancing, once more—this time, strongly within Damon's grasps.

Bonnie shut her eyes and laughed when she caught him singing the words, and Damon continued on, unapologetically.

She realized that it had been a long time since she danced. The last moment she could recall was at the 20s themed Decade Dance where she had asked Jaime to be her date, and she actually enjoyed herself as she spun within his arms.

The fun was cut short, unfortunately, when Esther trapped all of them inside of the dance, and Klaus threatened her to break the spell by holding her past "boyfriend" by the neck. She also ran into Jeremy, and that was awkward. Damon? It was the first time she'd spoken to him since the Abby thing.

Oh. And the witches totally _possessed her, _and led her to Alaric, where she allowed him to feed on her, and complete his transition as a vampire.

All around, it was a very bad time, but fortunately, a slow, fading memory, as she danced with Damon now, and admittedly began to have the time of her life.

If Damon was good for anything, it was being the life of the party. And Bonnie's life was in need of much _partying _right now, as she struggled to forget about her harsh reality for just one moment.

She hardly noticed when Damon pulled her in closer, and their movements slowed dramatically to match the pace of the song.

_I feel so close to you, right now; it's a force field_

Damon's lips moved dangerously close to her ear, as she felt the breath from his lips expelling onto her skin. She ignored the feeling of life that shot through her when she shut her eyes, and his hands slid down past her waist, and casually onto the back of her skirt, as they moved in even tighter.

Bonnie's curls landed on her shoulder as she moved, and his fingers grazed up the side of her body, touching the neck of her neck, and her collar bone with each motion.

_And there's no stopping us, right now; I feel so close to you, right now_

She opened her emerald eyes and looked straight into his aquatic blue ones—feeling oddly at ease when they met in a mutual gaze.

Damon licked his lips, and her hands moved up and through his raven hair, at an outrageously slow pace. He inhaled a deep breath when her nails grazed his scalp, and Bonnie felt a chill run down her spine at the soft growl that expelled from his lips.

Bonnie stopped moving, and she breathed in deeply when Damon's face was suddenly before hers, as their foreheads gently bumped.

She didn't know what this _feeling _was, as her heart rapidly sped up, and the sounds of the song faded to simple background noise.

She couldn't _stand _Damon; she damn near despised him, in fact, but for reasons she couldn't quite explain, she was having a moment of clarity with _him, _as they stared at each other with such intensity, she wasn't quite sure she could tear her eyes away if she wanted to.

Even within the midst of the darkened room, she only saw _him, _right now, and she wasn't sure why that was. She and Damon had danced before, but never anything like _this—_nothing that felt so _personal and private, _she realized.

_Nothing that made her feel quite like… this._

She convinced herself that it was the entire bottle of Malibu talking.

_Speaking of alcohol…_

"Where's Elena?" Bonnie asked, suddenly breaking the firm trance that they both seemed to be in, and Damon's brow furrowed as he glanced around the room, and realized that the doppelganger was nowhere in sight.

It also didn't help that now that he was formally snapped back into his rightful state, he smelt _blood. _A lot of it, in fact.

_That couldn't be good._

"Let's go," he said so quietly, Bonnie merely read his lips before following him swiftly out of the room, and down the hallway, as Damon's look of determination hardened.

"What's wrong?" Bonnie breathed, as she kept up with him, and Damon didn't respond as he opened each and every door, and glanced inside of the pitch blackness before continuing his journey.

He finally stopped at one door, and without indecision, he forced the entry open, immediately confirming his suspicions.

There stood Elena, with a brunette girl within her grasps, paralyzed, as the doppelganger had her pushed against the wall while she hungrily fed from her neck much more viciously than Bonnie had witnessed earlier.

Her stomach dropped.

"Elena," Damon stated, and she growled as she ripped her teeth away from the girl.

She snarled, as thick remnants of blood dripped down her chin, and Bonnie watched in horror as the victim fainted to the ground, with copious amounts of red liquid seeping from her neck.

"I want more!" Elena yelled, as Damon stared at her, and her bloodied hands clutched his cheeks as she grinned devilishly. _"I want more."_

"No," Bonnie breathed, as she shook her head, and Elena turned to face her. "Look," she pointed, to the girl on the ground.

Elena licked her licks hungrily before turning to glance at the human she had been feeding on, and without preamble, she immediately sobered at the sight of the girl lying on the floor.

Elena's eyes widened and Bonnie watched as they filled with tears as she raced past Damon and towards her; sharply biting into her wrist, and pressing it to the girl's mouth.

Bonnie cupped her hands over her mouth as Elena spoke frantically to the girl, and Damon didn't move an inch as it happened. The girl's eyes opened, and before she could scream, Elena was already compelling her into oblivion.

Bonnie frowned as she looked at Damon, and he seemed rather unphased by it all, as her best friend all but pushed the girl out of the room, and began to cry instantly. He wasn't saying anything at all, and she didn't know why, but that bothered her.

_Everything about him bothered her, right now._

"You didn't help her at all, Damon," Bonnie said, and he turned to face the witch, with a lazy face expression—shrugging with contempt, as his hands slid into his pockets.

Elena was too busy wiping her tears.

"She has to learn on her own, somehow," he said, and Bonnie's eyes narrowed.

"By nearly killing someone?" she exasperated. "I—I thought you were teaching her control, Damon; she wasn't 'in control' just now—"

"It happens," he said dismissively. "Trust me, Judgy, I know what I'm doing—"

"Do you?" Bonnie asked, as she was now suddenly in his face, with her fists tightened, and he blood boiling. "Because it just seems like you're letting her run off whenever she wants! You were supposed to help her—"

"I'm helping her help herself," he shot back, and Bonnie pressed her lips. "I'm helping her _be _herself."

"This isn't her!" Bonnie yelled back. "What, do you want her to be exactly like _you?_"

"She is like me!" Damon shouted, and Bonnie shook her head in disbelief. "The 'old' Elena that you thought that you knew is _gone, _okay? And it's about time you, my brother, and everybody else realized that," he said tightly. "That Elena is _dead, _and it seems like I'm the only one willing to put her to rest."

Bonnie breathed sharply as he pushed past her, and out of the room; leaving her there, as Elena wiped the tears streaming down her face, and busily tried to rid her mouth of the blood stains that encased it.

_She was a monster, for better lack of the word, and maybe it was time that she started to take Damon's words into perspective. Maybe it was time to accept the fact that the 'old' her had died when Rebekah ran Matt's truck off of Wickery Bridge._

Elena sniffled, and Bonnie sighed as she moved in towards her.

"Elena—"

"No," she shook her head, and Bonnie's brows scrunched. "He's right. Damon is right; I'm exactly like him—I need to let go—"

"No you don't," Bonnie replied. "He's not right, Elena; you're still there—"

"Am I?" she asked. "Because I don't think that I am; I don't _feel _like I am… I died, Bonnie, when I went over that bridge… And maybe everybody should start acting like it."

Before Bonnie could say another word, Elena stormed around of the room, and she was left standing there, to pick up the broken pieces of what had just transpired before her.

She refused to believe that Elena—the _real _Elena—was gone, and despite what Damon had said, she just wasn't ready to bury her, just like that. Bonnie believed that Elena's humanity was the only thing that would keep her together, and the longer she listened to Damon, the more she would lose it.

_The more she would lose herself._

Bonnie brushed back her curls, and let out an exhale as she looked to the ground, and back at the door, regretfully.

_So much for having a good night._

**A/N: Hello, all, so what did you think? I obviously have no idea whether this is a one shot or more or whatever; I just felt like writing it, because I have been plagued with Bamon feels, and I probably will be, forever. Review with your opinions on whether or not you liked my rewrite, and I shall maybe see you all soon? ;) xoxo!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II**

_To say the ride home from Whitmore College was "awkward" was an understatement._

Uncomfortable and deafening silence rattled throughout Damon's powder blue Chevy, as Bonnie chewed her lip softly from the back. Staring outside of the window, she listened to Elena, as she was trying to asphyxiate the sounds of her quiet sobbing from Damon's passenger seat.

_It clearly wasn't working._

Bonnie would glance up, every so often, and her heart threatened to disintegrate into nothing but ash each time she watched the distressed doppelganger wiping away the tears that already spoiled her cheeks. The stained blood on her lips and the irrevocable paleness of her skin made her look something like a modern day Snow White.

_Only much more damaged. Much less delicate as well, though with tired eyes, and a jaded expression, she was just as fragile. _

But there was nothing elusive, at all, about Elena Gilbert, in this very moment, Bonnie observed. She hated what she had become, and no matter how hard she was trying to pretend that she would be okay, she wouldn't be.

_She couldn't be._

Elena would never be the person she desired to be, ever again, and Bonnie found a bit of a quiet acquiescence in that.

Bonnie had forcibly changed, as well, after the death of Grams. And though she silently yearned to go back to being the sunny, spirited, and light-hearted girl that she used to be, she ultimately became much more submissive about her fate, in the end.

Mystic Falls was no longer the place to wish that things would always stay the same.

Because they weren't—and _she _wasn't; neither was Elena.

_Were they really just better off accepting their destiny, rather than running from it?_

Her ephemeral moment of wisdom was jolted by the sound of Elena's shaky voice, as it filtered throughout the car the moment she opened her lips to speak.

"Bonnie, do you… mind if Damon takes me home first?" she asked a bit of a tight tone, before turning around to face her, with a skewed expression. "I just—I really need to clean up. A-And I'm tired. You know? It's just… on the way."

Bonnie swallowed softly as her olive eyes met Elena's seemingly lifeless ones, and she pressed her lips.

Bonnie wasn't exactly too ardent on the idea of spending any _more _time with Damon, right now. _Especially _considering how the two had just lashed out at each other back at the college about his "teaching methods," _or lack thereof,_ when it came to Elena.

To be honest, if given another moment alone with him, she was very probable to flip out. And if there were any sharp objects around, he was _very_ liable to being stabbed through the stomach with it.

Bonnie was entirely too fed up of his attitude.

He had really pissed her off, back there, and the confrontation served as yet another reminder of how much she and Damon truly bumped heads, at the end of it all. And when push came to shove, she would, undoubtedly defend Elena over him, she realized.

No questions asked.

_So did "defending Elena" also mean putting up with this sick son of a bitch, so that she would avoid any alone time with him, and be able to wallow in her self-pity without his voice in her ear, for once?_

Bonnie looked up into the rear view mirror, and her eyes met Damon's—for what felt like a second—before she looked back at Elena and nodded.

_Absolutely._

"Yeah… sure. If it's okay with Damon," she said plainly, and Elena turned to face the Salvatore curiously, though he kept his eyes on the road ahead for another few seconds, or so, before finally acknowledging her.

"Your way, Warrior Princess," he said a bit sarcastically, and Elena rolled her eyes before she rotated to face Bonnie, once more, and nodded her head slightly.

_"Thank you," she mouthed in her direction. "Seriously."_

Bonnie opened her mouth to speak, but didn't.

_"It's what I do," she threatened to say._

Because it was what she did; she often took the bullet for her friends, simply because she was so lacking in the family department, therefore, she didn't really _have _anyone else. It was annoying of course; constantly being the one that everyone depended on to do everything, because it made her feel like more of a magic wand than an actual _person._

She'd never known anything else other than being a hero; even as she went without her powers. And sometimes, she _really _just wanted to settle for ordinary. Sometimes, she just wanted to be a girl—_a kid, specifically—_and she wanted to live her life as freely as the Virginia breeze.

But she knew that she was anything but ordinary. And her responsibility was as confining as a strongly tightened straight jacket.

_This was who she had to be, now. And she couldn't escape the mental institution that _was _her life; even if she tried._

It wasn't long before they were pulling up to the large white residence that belonged to the Gilberts, and Damon killed the engine once they arrived. Elena glanced at him, with rich question in her eyes, as he looked back at her, and Bonnie couldn't help but feel like she was on the verge of watching something incredibly private.

She always felt this way around Damon and Elena.

_It wasn't until tonight that she realized how much that actually bothered her._

Watching Damon and Elena dance, as the three partied at the frat house, was equally informative and uncomfortable, if she were honest with herself.

Informative, because she had never seen Elena act the way that she did, tonight. And it seemed as though this side only came out when she was with _Damon. _But it was uncomfortable, as well, because as far as Bonnie knew, Elena still had a boyfriend; _Stefan._

Bonnie had done an excellent job of isolating herself from the matters between the three, rather than declaring a side, like Caroline had. Bonnie, truthfully, didn't see the point in it, at all. She had her gripes with both Damon _and _Stefan, but with the way that Elena was clearly so _enamored _by both, was there even anything she could say to change her mind about it?

She doubted it.

Once Elena felt something, she _felt _it, and it wasn't long before she owned it. In Bonnie's eyes, Elena was slowly, but surely, coming to a realization when it came to Damon.

As much as she tried to deny or filter her emotion, it was _there _and after all that she had seen tonight, Bonnie refused to believe that was just the end of it.

_She wasn't stupid enough to actually think that this was anything but the start._

So, she reluctantly watched on, as thick tension filled the air, and Damon opened his car door, though he remained inside. Elena's eyes followed his.

"Can we talk?" he asked a bit sharply, and Elena licked her lips as her brows scrunched.

"I—I don't have anything to say, Damon—"

"Really, Elena? _Nothing?_" Damon asked, and the doppelganger frowned at the clear eruption waiting beyond his luminous eyes. "Because I think that you're lying—"

"And I don't think that I care, anymore," Elena snapped back, and he rolled his tongue over his teeth. "Tonight was… a _disaster, _and the quicker I wash all of it off of me, the better," she added tightly. "I—I know that I'm turning into this _person, _Damon, and I appreciate the fact that you are so _ready _to acknowledge it, but… It's not—"

"It's not who _you _want to be?" Damon asked, and Elena blinked. "Because you… don't want to be like _me,_" he finalized, and an eerie quiet enveloped the car, as Bonnie watched Elena struggling to tell him without any words that yes—that was _exactly _it.

_She didn't want to be like Damon. _

Damon's eyes never tore away from her chestnut ones, until finally, they heard someone else call Elena's name from the front door.

Bonnie looked up to see Stefan standing there, with a trademark look of concern draped across his face, though he didn't make a move to near the car.

Elena let out a deep breath, and sighed, before looking to Bonnie, again, and offering a forced smile.

Bonnie was beginning to learn that look all too well.

"I'll… see you later, Bonnie," Elena said, and she nodded in response. "Damon—"

"Goodnight, Elena," the Salvatore answered, bitterly, and she breathed before finally getting out of the car, and slamming her door shut behind her.

They remained soundless as they listened to Elena's heels clicking along the pavement, while she walked up to her front porch, arms crossed over her chest.

Stefan immediately wrapped her up and into an embrace, and Bonnie observed as he shot Damon a glance of discontentment before ultimately walking his maiden inside, and shutting the door behind them.

_Damon shut his door as well. _

He figured he could either dwell on his brother's anger and Elena's disenchantment, or he could drop Bonnie off, make his way back to the boarding house, and cozy up by the fire with his favorite bottle of bourbon.

_He preferred the latter._

"You can come up front if you want to," he offered over the dull calm, and Bonnie shifted into her seat a bit more, before straightening up.

"I'm fine here," she answered, and Damon started the ignition and soundly placed his hand on the shift.

He scoffed a bit softly, but pulled off, as the gentle hum of his engine filled the air, and Bonnie's eyes deserted to the window, once more.

She'd be home in no time flat, and Damon decided to keep quiet, for once, this could be a peaceful ride.

She decided she had become a bit overzealous when she heard his clear voice pierce through her thoughts, flagrantly.

"So, you're still mad at me," he noted, and Bonnie let out a sigh. "About our little… _disagreement_ at the party… Don't you witches ever know how to let bygones be bygones?" he asked, and Bonnie's jaw ticked as she sat up straighter and cocked her head.

"Don't you vampires know how to stop being reckless, impulsive, assholes? Or is that just _you_?"

His eyes shot to meet hers in the mirror, but Bonnie didn't budge or even flinch.

She meant what she said, and she'd stand by it one hundred percent. Damon didn't scare her, at all. And if he thought she was just going to let him have his way, again, he was sadly mistaken.

He often was when it came to testing and pushing his limits.

"I'm just saying," Damon replied, with a quick swipe of his tongue over his teeth. "I tried to do the right thing when it came to Elena. I did. She might be freaking out right now to my brother about it, but trust me; she'll thank me later."

"Will she?" Bonnie snapped back, as Damon diverted from her eyes. "Will she even remember who she _is, _at that point, or will you be there to _tell her_?" Bonnie asked heatedly, as she remembered just how quickly Elena acknowledged her fellowship with Damon once the vampire had himself.

It just seemed a bit off to her that Elena, the more she thought about it.

Since when had Elena been like _Damon? _And since when was Damon the one to tell Elena who or what she was, as well?

There was just something very off-putting about this, the longer Bonnie thought about it, but her thoughts were severed the minute Damon snorted as he turned the wheel into her driveway.

"What kind of question is that, Bonnie? Of course she will! But every vampire has to stumble—"

"And where do you draw the line after that? Is there a line?" Bonnie asked, and his jaw ticked. "Because I don't think that there is one, with you. You don't do anything by the book, Damon—"

"Neither do you, Witchy. Isn't it the reason you can't do magic anymore? Because you brought one too many Gilberts back to life? "

"Really? You're gonna compare me saving the guy I loved, and my best friend's _life _to how selfish _you're _being? I—I need to go. I am _done _with this conversation."

"Judgy—"

"Goodnight, Damon," she said as she got out of the iconic Chevy and slammed the door behind her.

Bonnie quickly stormed off towards her house, huffing silently with each step that she took.

Who did he think that he was, exactly, bringing up what happened to her to justify what he had done?

She wasn't like him—she _couldn't be—_she concluded. Damon was damaged, stubborn, headstrong, and reckless.

_She swallowed hard when she realized those were probably a few phrases she could use to describe herself, as well._

As she fished for her keys in her bag, Damon's car door slammed, and she groaned when she heard his footsteps approaching quickly towards her.

_"Bonnie, wait."_

She turned around, and the vampire was just standing there, with a cross look in his eyes that filtered all the way down to his lips. The last time they had been in such close proximity, it was on the dance floor, and that moment was still blaring in her mind.

She'd pushed it deep into the archives of her memory, but she couldn't help but quickly rehash it within herself, before setting her focus on the man before her.

He'd made her feel so different, then; so wild, and so _free. _

It almost made Bonnie wonder what it was that Elena saw in him, anyway.

_Was it the fact that she quite literally felt like she was on some sort of chemical induced high, in his presence? _

Bonnie had gotten sharp, but distinctive, bursts of said high while she danced with Damon tonight, but she concluded that it wasn't enough to just forgive him for all that he had done to her and others.

He was still Damon, after all, and she was _not _Elena. She never would be, around him.

She didn't have the time or patience for this.

"Damon, you need to leave. Now. I don't have anything else to say to you."

"I don't care," he said bluntly, and Bonnie scoffed shortly. "You don't have to speak, ever again, as far as I'm concerned."

"Great! Because I don't plan on it… _Not with you._"

Bonnie spun around to open her door, and when she pushed it open, Damon spoke again, stopping her directly in her tracks.

_"You're mad at me because you trusted me, aren't you?"_

Bonnie remained silent, as she stared into the dark living room that was only painted by the moon shining through the window. She took in a deep breath, and slowly turned to face the vampire, while he stood just before her, with a solemn glare in his eyes.

"You think that I trust you?" Bonnie asked softly, and Damon exhaled sharply when her gaze met his.

"Yeah, I'd say so," he replied, and Bonnie stiffened up. "A hell of a lot more than you're willing to admit. Isn't that right, Bonnie?"

Bonnie stood there motionless, as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his black pants, and she shook her head in exasperation.

"I… don't trust you, Damon. I just—Elena… is my best friend. And… I can't just sit back and _watch _her become somebody else, like you can," she said.

Damon didn't say a word as he continued to stare into her eyes, and Bonnie clenched her fists tightly, as she recalled seeing the girl covered in blood.

He finally opened his mouth to speak, after an uneasy snort escaped his lips.

"And _that's it, _Bonnie?"

"Why wouldn't it be? You say that like I'm not telling the truth; like I have any reason to believe any differently—to _not _believe in what I'm saying, Damon."

Damon pressed his lips tightly, though what was bubbling beneath the surface was as close to insurmountable rage as he had felt in a long time.

The sureness in Bonnie's eyes irritated him, as the young girl stared at him so calmly but so authoritatively, all at once. She believed that she had him all figured out. And she did—for the most part.

But there were things she didn't know; things he'd never said, because he honestly didn't see the point in them.

Bonnie was not like Elena; she didn't award people for "good behavior," or for acting the way that she believed that they _should. _She didn't busy herself with harping on the details of his latest "good deed," and she damn sure didn't make a production out of it when he did things the right way.

And secretly, he adored that.

He _respected _the fact that Bonnie was woman enough to call him out on things, but not sit there, with her hand on his own, waiting for him to follow her down the trail to redemption.

Bonnie didn't care about that. And she didn't care about him enough to make it her priority to change him.

When she talked, he simply listened, and surely enough, her words would burn in the back of his mind, like paper to a flame. The things that she said stuck with him; they _resonated _with him, and whether he was comfortable enough to admit it or not, Bonnie was more of an influence on him than anybody else was, simply because she had _no _desire to be.

She didn't take Damon on as her project; she didn't enlist herself as the head of his Attitude Reform Committee, either.

She simply said what she needed to say, and with that, Damon gained the true perspective of someone who had nothing to lose or gain by even having discussions with him. She simply was honestly, because she could be.

And he coveted that.

He coveted how bold, strong, and blunt this girl could truly be. Because it wasn't until he'd learned to know Bonnie that he had finally met his match.

And because she was so intent on this, his own feelings of bravado were finally beginning to set in.

If Bonnie had things to get off of her chest, than so did he.

_And he had a feeling that the weight of his words was much heavier than hers were. There was absolutely no doubt about that._

Bonnie watched on, as she felt a strange sense of _something _churning at her soul, the longer she looked into his eyes. There was something _wrong _about the way he was staring at her—almost off, as he seemed to be intrinsically jaded, but also quite attentive to the features that donned her face.

_As if he was recounting them, or something._

"Do you remember the first time that we met?" Damon asked, and Bonnie tightened her arms over her chest.

"How could I forget? You were so charming, you said that you 'wanted to protect me,'" she said dryly. "What does this have to do with anything? I never meant anything to you, and you damn sure don't mean anything to me, Damon."

He didn't respond as Bonnie's eyes filled with a hint of rage as she stared at him; even more pissed off than she had been before.

It had always been a part of Damon's plan to use her to his own benefit, and she couldn't say now that she even expected more from him.

_This is who he was._

And the quicker she let herself admit that she _did _have the _slightest _of hope for him, and let that go, the better. Because there was nothing worth believing in, anymore.

_There was no one she could believe in, either._

Bonnie inhaled and turned, once again, to walk into her house—perturbed by Damon's presence, and eager to separate herself from him, as soon as possible. This night had been incredibly long, and she was finally at her wits end.

She was finally going to let it all go. She had to, at this point. There was no other way.

But it was as though he wasn't willing to let it go that easily, as she heard the familiar tone of his voce kick up, once more, as it traveled through her ears, and this time, pierced her soul.

She regretted not slamming the door shut sooner.

_"F.Y.I, Witchy… That _wasn't _the first that we met."_

Bonnie's brows scrunched together, and she swiftly turned to face him, but before she could utter a word, his back was in the distance, heading over to his car, as though he hadn't said a word at all.

Bonnie remained confounded, as Damon's parting words resounded her head; causing her heart to beat a little faster, and her throat to feel a little tighter.

_That wasn't the first time that we met._

So when was it, she thought? And why hadn't she remembered it, at all?

Bonnie was shaken out of her thoughts when the roar of Damon's engine started, and he began to move out of the driveway.

Within moments, he peeled away, and Bonnie was left, dumbfounded, as her arms crossed over her body, and she tugged away at her lip with her teeth.

But not before he gave her a defining look in the eye that chilled and surprised her, down to her core.

_A look that told her there was much more to this—and them—than met the eye. _

**A/N: Hello, everyone! So, as you can see, I decided to sort of continue with this mini-fic, because I had an urge to create many more moments between Damon and Bonnie that didn't occur on the show. I also wanted to address one reviewer who thought that I let Bonnie go a little soft on Damon in part I. It was intentional, LOL. Trust me. I understand that the show's treatment of Bonnie had been very problematic/frustrating lately because she's been super tolerant and very silent. However, I saw it as a necessary step to take with the start of this fic, before jumping back into the opinionated/ Sassy Bonnie that we all love. **

**With that said, how did you all enjoy the Bonnie that we all know coming back and standing her ground? Seeing Elena that way definitely spoke to her, and in return, she had some words for Damon. Were they fair/accurate? Was she too hard on him? Lastly, what about Damon's words at the end? What do you think that he meant by that? You'll just have to wait and see. ;)**

**As always, I would like to thank you all for reading. You seriously make my day with your reviews, and I am so grateful to have such an excellent bunch of people following me. So, thank you! I plan on continuing this sporadically, with at least 2 or 3 more parts based off of my inspirations/frustrations with the show. So if I don't update for a bit, don't fret! I'm just waiting for TVD to give me something worth writing about LOL. Anyway, I love you all. R&R! Xo**


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III**

"I don't think this is working. I don't feel anything—I don't _see _anything," Bonnie said, in an exasperated tone before she opened her olive eyes, and glared across the desk at her mentor. "You said I was supposed to 'see' something, right?"

Professor Shane unfolded his hands with a soft look upon his face and he smiled easily before reaching forward for the tea pot, and replenishing both he and Bonnie's mugs. She inhaled the sweet scent of the "herbal" remedy that Shane had picked up on his backpacking venture through Australia, once upon a time. Bonnie retrieved her mug once it was full again, and took a tentative sip to test the heat against her tongue, before gulping it down in stride.

He'd told her, candidly, that the stuff was _much _better when you smoked it, but he was aiming to be a "good role model," as they set out on their task to clear Bonnie's mind, and get into her head. She'd emailed him, after seeing him at the party at the frat house, with hopes that he could help her sort out a few things.

Namely, her magic.

Ever since seeing her Grams get tortured on the Other Side for her mistakes, Bonnie had been hesitant to even do a spell at all.

And when she did actually try?

Well, she was unsuccessful, anyway.

The spirits had seemingly been punishing her with these treacherous memories and horrific images, as she relived Sheila Bennett's pain, again and again. Professor Shane had told her that it was all in her mind; that her fear was what drove the hallucinations, and the quicker she took a stand and just _believed _in herself, the sooner it would stop.

But as she repeated Shane's mantras, steadied her breathing, and tried to relax, but no avail—she just couldn't calm down.

And deep down, she knew that this wasn't _all _because of her powers. No; this may have _slightly _been because of her last run in with a certain Salvatore brother, after said frat party, when he dropped her off at her home and said a few things that she hadn't been able to get off her mind since.

The words in particular that she still hadn't been able to make any sense of were the most cryptic ones he relayed; the ones that challenged her first encounter with Damon- the ones that stated that it _wasn't _the first time that they'd met.

Bonnie shivered when her mind remembered the coldness in Damon's glare before he pulled away in his Chevy, and left her standing there, alone.

Had she really met Damon once before, and she hadn't remembered it? But how?

Bonnie reproved herself from her thoughts when she heard Professor Shane say something to her, after she realized they had been sitting in silence for a good minute or so.

_Because that wasn't awkward at all._

"If you've got something on your mind, Bonnie, all of the coaching in the world from me won't be able to help you, until you reconcile your thoughts," he said and Bonnie scoffed as she waved her hand and dismissed the accusation.

"What? No, I'm fine," she said, in the bubbliest voice she could muster, as Professor Shane's chestnut eyes reached her own. "I'm—fine," she emphasized, again.

_Who was she trying to convince? Him or herself? And was she really that easy to read? He hardly even knew her!_

Professor Shane took in a deep breath and reached into his desk, where he recovered a thick, hardcover book, and placed it before him as Bonnie scanned the cover. He held it up towards her, and looked into his eyes as he spoke lowly.

"This is the first book that I wrote," Professor Shane said, as Bonnie eyed the title, and his name printed across the bottom. "I was scared—no, _terrified—_of getting this thing published because I didn't think it was any good; I didn't think _I _was very good… And then one day, I came here, to this very office where one of my colleagues just so happened to be _reading _my book—this book that I didn't want to show _anyone—_at her desk, like it was no big deal. And when she was finished, do you know what she said to me?"

Bonnie shook her head as she awaited Shane's answer, and he sighed with a grin before looking into her eyes again.

"She said that my introduction _sucked; _that I needed to stop beating around the bush and say what I meant when I meant it—she said that I had a lot of potential, but my fear of digging _deeper _was holding me back…" he said, and Bonnie bit her lip softly. "Sheila told me that I didn't have to be afraid of anyone—or _anything —_not even the truth."

Bonnie smiled at the mention of her grandmother's name, and then let out an exhale at her words of advice.

She was right; she needed to stop being afraid of what may have inhabited her head. She needed to face her inner demons, and relinquish them, so they could be free.

_She needed to be free, too._

"Tell me, Bonnie," Shane began again, as he set the book down, and traced her emerald eyes slowly. "What kind of fear is holding you back? What kind of _truth _has got you so unraveled?"

_Damon, _she wanted to blurt out, but she bit her tongue before she had the chance.

_Damon; it was all Damon. _

Bonnie shifted uncomfortably as she folded her legs in the chair and leaned back with a strong sense of trepidation in her eyes.

Well, it was now or never, she presumed.

"It…. doesn't have much to do with magic," she admitted and Professor Shane nodded. "I mean, it does—a lot of it _does _have to do with my powers, Shane, but I just…." She stopped, as she twirled her ring around her finger and looked back up again. "It's not _just _my powers."

"I figured that," Shane said softly, and Bonnie pursed her lips. "So—what's his name?" he asked almost immediately, and her face flushed as she guffawed at the accusation and widened her eyes.

"What makes you think it's a guy?" she asked, and Shane took a sip of his tea and smiled.

"Do you not remember that I teach a lecture hall _full _of young adults, quite like yourself? I know the signs when I see them… I usually try to play my part by pairing up the kids who seem to be sending each other googly eyes throughout my lessons," he admitted and Bonnie choked on the air she was breathing as she sat up.

Did she just hear that correctly? Was Professor Shane actually Professor _Matchmaker? _She snorted at the hilarity of it all.

"You play Cupid for your students? Seriously? And what do you get in return?"

"Good grades," he said, and Bonnie laughed in disbelief. "I find that… people work a lot better when they're happy. Especially college students who are forced to be up at 7 AM for my lectures. I Play wingman, they work harder so they have more time to spend with their sweethearts outside of class. I think it's a recipe for success," he said and she shook her head. "Just like I think it'll help _you _if you tell _me _about this boy who's got your mind all fuzzied," he said, as he leaned back into his chair, cupping his mug. "So, go on—spill. What's going on?" he asked.

Bonnie took in a deep breath, and ticked her jaw as she straightened up.

Was she _really _going to do this? Was she _seriously _going to tell her potential college professor about the weird shit going on in her head, all because of some _guy _she didn't even like? Was this what her life had really come to?

Yes; yes it had.

"There's this guy who I…. cannot _stand,_" she started, as professor Shane became all ears. "And… we fight, bicker, argue—the whole nine—we've just never really gotten along, ever, and when we do…. It's usually for the sake of my best friend. He's… kind of in love with her."

Professor Shane nodded in affirmation and Bonnie sighed before she continued.

"Anyway; things got a bit out of hand the other night at the frat party. One minute, we were okay… He apologized for being such a… douche bag to me, and I thought that everything was fine, until he just… went right back to his old ways, without any hesitation at all… He ended up taking me home that night, and we got into a huge argument about everything, when he suddenly just… _sprung _this _thing _on me that when I 'think' we met wasn't _actually _the first time and it just left me confused because how is that possible? I—I'm a witch, Shane; just like my Grams was, and we can't be com—"she started and stopped once she realized Shane had no idea who she was talking about or what _he _was.

He picked up on the flub, and finished her sentence.

"Witches cannot be influenced," he said, and she exhaled softly. "Compelled, specifically, by vampires."

Bonnie bit her lip and nodded begrudgingly. Looks like the cat was out of the bag, there.

"Yeah; we can't be compelled," she said. "But how could I _not _remember? Is there some way he could have compelled me without me knowing?" she questioned, and Shane licked his lips and narrowed his eyes.

"Bonnie, anything is possible when a witch hasn't tapped into her dormant powers, just yet," he said, and her jaw tightened. "It's very well possible that you and this _frenemy _of yours have crossed paths once before, but you've simply forgotten all about it… I… think that I can help you recover those memories, if you want them, with the help of hypnosis," he said.

Bonnie's eyes widened, and her forehead wrinkled.

"_What?"_

"Hypnosis," Shane repeated, as his eyes remained on hers, and Bonnie blinked in skepticism. "The psychological state—"

"I know what it means," she interrupted. "I—I just don't believe it, Shane… I mean, I'm sure you're very good at it, but like I said—I'm a witch—that kind of stuff doesn't work on us," she said sadly, as she followed his eyes. "I don't think it'll work."

Shane scratched his ear and Bonnie sighed as he folded his hands and looked at her deeply; his eyes filled with confidence. She couldn't for the life of her understand why.

"You sure about that?" he asked, pointing to the desk in front of her.

Bonnie looked down to see her earring laying neatly on the area before her, and she touched her ear only just now realizing that she had taken it out.

She looked back up at Shane, who sent her a gentle smirk, and she bit back her smile when she felt it forming. Honestly? She was impressed.

"Let's… get you out of your mind, shall we?" he asked, and Bonnie breathed before shaking her head in agreement and sifting her fingers through her hair.

"We shall," she said simply.

XXXX

"So, did the Wicked Witch of the West ever get back to you? I called her about three times," Damon said, as he lay back on Alaric's bed, and Elena paced the floor, continuously checking her cell for messages from Stefan.

"No, she didn't," she said, before looking up at Damon and narrowing her eyes. "Though it's no wonder she's been ignoring _you—_you _insist _on calling her that," she snapped, and Damon rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms and looked at her staunchly.

"Oh, come _on, _Warrior Princess—you know I don't _mean _it," he said, as she rolled her eyes. "I just have a lot of nicknames for everything—you should see what Stefan is filed under in my cell," he said, and Elena scoffed as she stopped in her tracks.

Her long brown hair sat just beyond her shoulders and he breathed internally when her eyes settled on his. He may have been in a "fight" with Elena, too, but it didn't make him feel any less for her. In fact, if anything, it made him crave her attention just a little bit more—because he couldn't _have _it.

Damon ticked his jaw when he watched her place her hands on her hips and tighten her teeth,

_Oh, here we go…_

"It doesn't matter, Damon, because we're talking about _Bonnie, _and she told me what an ass you were to her when you dropped her off from Whitmore," she said and his body stiffened, though he masked it well with nonchalance in his voice.

"Well, what'd she say?"

"Not much, except for the fact that you're a dick," Elena said bluntly, and he scoffed. "You- can't be this way, Damon; not with my friends, just because you're mad at _me._"

Damon didn't say a word as his eyes glazed over Elena's frame, and right back up to her chocolate, doe eyes. She tapped her foot, impatiently, as she awaited his rebuttal, and he rolled his eyes before offering her one in typical fashion.

"Who says it's about _you?" _he asked, much to Elena's surprise, as her eyes opened a bit more, and she stared at him in confusion. "I just mean that…. Judgy and I don't like each other; we never have. I'm not 'projecting' any of that from what's going on between you and me," he said carefully, though he felt the words stinging at the back of his throat.

"I don't believe that," Elena said bravely. "I just—don't believe any of it, Damon."

"You don't have to," he shot back, as she licked her teeth. "Last I checked, you're still with my brother; what I feel for you—what I've _said and done _for _you—_doesn't make any world of difference. So why should I care what you choose to believe?"

"Because you care about me," she said, "And I care about you—and if there was something I could do, to change things," she trailed off, as she looked away from his eyes.

She didn't say the words, though, as the room took on an uncomfortable still and Damon felt his undead heart skip at the possibility that she could change things; that she _wanted _to change things.

Damon's thoughts were snapped at the tone of Elena's voice speaking again, and it was only then that he realized that she was now on her phone; speaking furiously to the person on the other end of the line. By the sound of it, she was talking to Stefan, and he was still inside of the Mystic Grill, still trying to figure out a way to kill and/or smoke Connor Jordan out, with Matt, April, and Jeremy Gilbert still alive.

Damon snorted.

Who needed anyone "alive," anyway, when you could just kill them all and be done with it?

He looked up to see Elena pulling on her jacket, and heading towards the door, before turning to look at him, once more. He was trapped inside of this room, until further notice, because his goddamn brother stole his lapis lazuli ring and rendered him utterly _useless _in the daytime, as everyone else was fighting their best against the enemy.

He was quite literally forced to sit this one out; _and not in the sun, preferably._

"I have to go," she announced as she faced him strongly, and Damon's brow furrowed. "Stefan keeps talking about Klaus, and he's not making any sense—I—I need to get in there—"

"No," Damon interrupted. "You can't just go run into Connor's path; this guy's dangerous, Elena—"

"And so am I!" Elena yelled, with a bout of fire in her eyes and rage in her voice.

Damon swallowed hard as the doppelganger stared at him angrily, with her hand clutched tightly around her phone, and her throat tightened.

"Jeremy is my _brother, _Damon; Matt is my best friend! And April—I can't let anything happen to April. I need to do something before it's too late."

Damon watched as Elena neared the door, and he called her name softly, before she turned around to face him one more time. His chest tightened but he spoke very clearly as the girl seemed to be hanging onto his every word.

"You need to be smart," he said lowly, as Elena watched on quietly. "He doesn't know you're a vampire…. You get as close as you can; and then you _kill him_," he ordered, as Elena nodded in confirmation before exiting the loft, and slamming the door shut behind her.

Damon let out an exhale as he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket, and pulled out his phone. He cautiously typed in the number that he regretfully knew by heart, and began a new text message that he read and re-read over and over again, as his thumb lingered over the "okay" button.

"_Bonnie, I need your help. I need you," _it read, and without another second hesitation, he gulped down his pride and sent the message; only hoping that the witch—or shell of one—would answer sometime this century, if she still wasn't so intent on burning his penis off.

Elena _thought _she knew why Bonnie was upset, but he knew the truth; and he knew that she hadn't forgotten what'd he'd said to her that night when he brought her home.

Now, it was just a matter of whether or not the two would act like it meant nothing—like they had _nothing._

"Fourth time's the charm," Damon said, to himself.

XXXXX

Bonnie nibbled at her thumb as she stared at the screen on her cell phone and curled her knees to her chest on her couch.

She'd had about 16 messages from everyone, including Caroline, Elena, Stefan, Matt, Tyler, and Jeremy—filling her in on everything that's happened while she occupied her time in Professor Shane's office—but she couldn't bring herself to say a thing or respond to any of them at all.

Jeremy, Matt, and April had almost died, while Stefan tried to save them. Elena killed Connor. Caroline and Tyler had drama because of some Hayley character…. _A lot _had gone done.

And yet, the only thing she could think of was that _one _text message that she'd received after leaving Shane's office seven hours too late to help anyone, that further cemented everything she'd _seen _under Shane's hypnosis—everything she didn't _want _to believe, because she'd had no reason to, up until now.

_Bonnie, I need your help. I need you._

She took a sip from her traveler's mug of the "spirit tea," as Shane called it, but it did little to settle her nerves that had been on edge since earlier that day.

And now, at 7 P.M, she was _still _rattled. Was it normal to feel this way about somebody that she'd convinced herself that she'd despised—someone she damn near _hated?_

Bonnie looked down at the message again, and it felt as though her throat was constricted with a thousand golf balls as she struggled to breathe easily.

_What the hell was happening to her? Just what the hell had Damon Salvatore done?_

Bonnie impulsively rose to her feet, and slipped on her jacket that lay over the edge of her couch as she glanced at the clock.

_She just needed some fresh air, _she told herself, as she grabbed her car keys, and headed towards the door. _She just needed to get out this one spot so she could stop thinking about everything she'd wished she was still blissfully ignorant of before she asked for Professor Shane's help._

Bonnie got into her Toyota Prius and turned on the engine—pulling out of her driveway no more than a few seconds later.

_She just needed to drive. She just needed to blast some music, get away from these new memories bestowed upon her, and forget that any of it happened all over again, because she didn't need this._

She didn't need him—like he needed her. And she didn't these thoughts clouding her mind or judgment, because her mind was already made up; Damon could not be saved, and she would not be the one to try to bring out the good in him.

If he wanted to do that, it was all on _him _—she didn't want to play a role in his road to redemption, although she'd feared that she already had.

_She already was._

Bonnie gulped when she looked up before her and realized that she'd mindlessly driven and parked herself right in front of the Salvatore Boarding House, without even meaning to do so, at all.

She drew in a sharp breath as her fingers clutched the wheel, though they were trembling involuntarily as her eyes caught the lights shining throughout the Salvatore Estate.

_Was he even here? Why was she even here? What the hell was she doing right now?_

Bonnie immediately sobered when she saw the shadow of movement dance within the house, and she placed her hand on her gear to throw the Prius into reverse.

_This was a bad, unconscious idea, and the sooner she got out of here, the better. Maybe Stefan and Damon wouldn't even—_

A hard fist tapped her driver's side window, and Bonnie jumped in fright before she turned to face the glowering figure that was standing just beyond the glass barrier that separated them.

Bonnie reluctantly rolled down her window, and his brows knitted together as he stared at her for a moment without saying a word.

She felt absolutely ridiculous, just sitting here, but what was a girl to see? He'd already found her out, and she couldn't just _drive off _now that he was literally _here. _She tightened her muscles, and snapped on her best poker face, as did he, as she opened her car door and slammed it behind her—leaning her back against the metal as he now stood before her.

The scent of his sweet cologne touched her senses the minute she exited her vehicle and she regretted it.

She regretted this entire situation.

"You know… it's customary to inform someone when you're sitting and just _waiting _outside of their house. Otherwise, it's considered stalking," Damon said, in an even tone. "And I didn't take you for the _Annie Wilkes _type."

Bonnie let out an incredulous laugh and looked deep into his blue eyes that were shining beneath the moonlight all too brightly.

"Well, lucky for you, I don't plan on bashing your ankles in with a sledgehammer," she replied slickly, and his brow rose.

"Touché," he mumbled.

_If anyone would have gotten his "Misery" reference, it would have been her._

"So, what do you want?" he asked casually, though his mind was scrambling to answer his own question. "You're about 25,000 hours late to the rescue party, but I'm sure you knew that. Is it that you just didn't _care _for once?" he asked, and Bonnie scoffed as she shook her head.

"I got held up—with Professor Shane."

"Ooh, Professor _Creepy? _Scandalous—"

"Shut up, it wasn't like that," she said seriously, and Damon chastised himself. "He was trying to help me," Bonnie added, as his eyes followed hers. "I have to get my magic back, somehow."

"I agree," Damon said, as his fingers tapped against his thighs before he folded his arms. "Do you know how _hard _it is trying to get anything done with my _idiot _brother and Elena the Martyr? I mean—not that I was much _help _anyway after Stefan stole my ring and trapped me in Ric's apartment, but it's the principle of the matter."

"Which is…?" Bonnie asked, and Damon shrugged.

"Things… would have been easier with you around. Even without your 'witchy mojo,'" he said simply.

Bonnie didn't say anything as they stared at each other for a moment, before she cleared her throat and pressed her lips into a thin line.

"How's Elena?" she asked, suddenly changing the subject, and his jaw ticked.

"She's… Elena. She insisted on burying that rat bastard Connor, as if she _owed _him something—I just don't get it… I don't think that I want to," Damon said, and Bonnie blinked silently. "_You _could always ask her, if you're interested," he challenged, as his gaze deepened. "You could be there, with her…. Instead of here, with me," he also added, and Bonnie remained still though she was sure her heartbeat was giving her away.

_He knew something was up; was he just gonna wait for her to tell him?_

"But you don't want to talk about her, do you?" he asked.

"I'll visit her in the morning," she promised. "You said she was fine, so what's the rush?"

Damon stared at Bonnie observingly before he finally dropped his arms and relented.

"You're right—what _is _the rush, Bennett? I say we celebrate this minor victory and go out for a mystery drink… let's go."

Bonnie's face upturned in confusion, and she immediately stared at the vampire like he had five heads, and each and every one was foaming at the mouth.

"_Excuse me?"_

"What, are you _scared _to hang out with a guy like me?" he taunted, as he moved in a bit closer. "Don't think you can keep up?"

"I _know _I can keep up," Bonnie said, and Damon rolled his eyes. "I'm just… confused as to why _you _would want to hang out with me. We're not exactly friends—"

"And I'm confused as to why you're here. So, why don't we call it even over a few shots?" he asked, as Bonnie's expression still remained. "You can't hate me _that _much, do you?" When Bonnie didn't answer, Damon raised his palms. "Well, you _can, _actually, but what'd be the fun in that?"

"There's a lot of fun in that, actually," she replied, and he sneered. "I shouldn't even be here—"

"Great, so let's go," he said as he nodded towards her car and stared into her eyes. "Are you driving, or am I?"

Bonnie pursed her lips, and Damon's gleaming expression searched her face for an answer. She'd involuntarily come to see him—of all people—and now she was going to actually _hang out _with him? Had that spirit tea doubled as a hallucinogenic as well? Because somehow, she was handing him her car keys, and reading his eyes like they were her favorite book, over and over again.

And with each glance, her newfound memories erupted throughout her mind as such a rapid and maddening pace, she was convinced her head might just explode if she didn't have something to calm herself down.

Jack and Coke on the rocks, to be exact.

"You're driving," Bonnie finally said, and she watched as Damon's mouth formed into a devilish smirk as she made her way to the passenger's side. "And please—get us there in one piece."

When they both got into the car, Damon started he ignition, and looked over at an anxious Bonnie once more before he re-adjusted her rearview mirror. She was trying her best to remain stoic, but he knew that she was bubbling beneath the surface; he could just sense it.

He had always been able to sense that about her.

"I can promise to get us there—but I'm not sure about how many pieces… Washington, DC is a bit of a drive from here," he said, and Bonnie's eyes went the size of saucers. "Good news is we'll get there just in time for _party time,_" he winked.

"Damon—"

"You've got three hours to say whatever the hell it is you need to say to me, Judgy," Damon said, as he looked at her one more time. "Three hours to get your Damon throttling and bashing off of your chest, while I drive to our nation's fine capital. And then we get drunk, pretend like we're friends, come back tomorrow, and go right back to hating each other. And I will never ask you why you were here… and you'll never ask me why I sent you that message," he responded, with a familiar glaze in his eyes. "Entertain me; just this once."

Bonnie glanced at the clock and sucked in a deep breath before she met his glare again.

"What if three hours isn't enough?" she asked, and his head cocked. "What if I need more time?"

Damon licked his teeth and clutched the gear and she didn't turn away. He was intrigued by the determination in her eyes.

"There's always the ride back," he offered. "Does this sound tempting, yet?"

Bonnie opened her mouth to speak, but stopped; she settled for a nod instead, as she strapped in her seatbelt, and looked straight ahead. Damon took that as his signal to back out of the driveway, and before she knew it, they were flying down the highway and on their way out of the state faster than a speeding bullet.

Damon, clearly pleased with himself, leaned his hand forward and turned on the radio to some classic rock song that she'd admittedly known the words to, and would have sang along with if he weren't in the car.

Damon missed that memo and started belting every word, as Bonnie noted the amusement in her head, and turned to face the window for the rest of the ride.

_What the hell did she have to lose, except everything, anyway?_

**AN: Hey all! So I am a terrible person and I know I have neglected this fic but never fear! I am back with a vengeance (sort of) and I promise to continue updating whenever inspiration strikes my fancy. With the hiatus on right now, it's easier to center my thoughts so I hope to update again soon before the prom episode THAT I AM SUPER EXCITED ABOUT BECAUSE I REALLLY REALLLLY HOPE WE GET A NICE BAMON MOMENT. Thoughts on that? And the fic? As you can tell I changed the canon a little bit in 4x05, as far as Shane's meeting with Bonnie and Damon's moment with Elena. What do you think Bonnie remembered about Damon, exactly? And how will Damon react IF and when he finds out? What about that text he sent Bonnie? OH and how do you foresee the mini-trip to DC going? Reviews/predictions are appreciated! As always, thank you all for sticking with me as long as you do. I'm annoying, I know it, but you guys are awesome and I write this all for you! Take care, and until next time, sweethearts! xo**


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